


Scrooge White and the Seven Beagle Boys

by Bijouled



Category: Disney - All Media Types, DuckTales (Cartoon 1987)
Genre: Gen, Parody, Snow White And The Seven Dwarves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bijouled/pseuds/Bijouled
Summary: Scrooge McDuck, Launchpad, Glomgold, and the Beagle Boys star in a parody of "Snow White". Based on the episode Scroogerello.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to post this as a chapter in "As Long As It's Illegal", but since it focused more on Scrooge and Launchpad than anyone, I figured I ought to post it on its own.
> 
> Done really quickly but enjoy.

 

 

 

            Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, and there was a young prince. He had a thick Scottish accent like nobody’s business, wore a classy top hat, and had feathers white as snow. And so, quite creatively, he was named Scrooge White.

            He lived alone in the castle with his stepfather, a jealous and bitter man named Flintheart Glomgold.

            Truly, Glomgold had never cared for his late wife or stepson; it had only been their massive wealth that caught his eye. And after the queen’s "unfortunate accident", he took on much of the family fortune. Thus Glomgold spent all his days reveling in his greed, neglecting the kingdom and caring only for himself.

            Now, deep in the castle there was an enchanted mirror, one that could answer all kinds of questions.

 

            One morning, Glomgold went up to the mirror and asked:

            "Magic Mirror on the wall,

            Who's the richest duck of all?"

            A thick fog clouded the mirror and suddenly a face appeared, an angry looking lady with dark hair.

            "Vell it sure ain't you, darlink."

            Glomgold's jaw dropped. "What?!" All this time he had prided himself as being the richest, the top of the heap. "Who, then?!"

            "You seem to forget that the boy inherits the castle and secret treasury the day he comes of age,” Magica told him.

            Scrooge!?

            “That makes no sense! That old fart's gotta be on the edge of a hundred!”

            “Vell, in this story he’s turning 18 tomorrow.”

            Glomgold seethed.

            "Maybe you could try the number one dime," Magica Mirror prodded him.

            "Oh, will ya shut up about that conflabbit dime already?!" Glomgold barked.

 

            Meanwhile, Prince Scrooge was out in the courtyard by the wishing well, humming to himself and playing with a shiny coin while he daydreamed. He was thinking of that beautiful golden-haired princess from the neighboring kingdom, the one that sometimes rode by on her pet grizzly bear and gave him a smile that made his heart flutter.

            “Twee, twee,” chirped a talking pigeon. “Why don’t you make a wish?”

            Scrooge scoffed. “Now why would I waste me money on something so frivolous?” Then he brightened.

            Tying a long string around the coin, he tossed it in, heard a splash, and closed his eyes tight in a wish. Hahaha! He pulled the coin back with a snap.

            “What the wishing well doesn’t know won’t hurt it.” And with that, Scrooge swaggered off to the fields to pick some flowers, laughing. “To be a prince, you’ve got to be smarter than the smarties and tougher than the toughies!”

 

            "So, uh, what do you want me to do?" asked Launchpad again, watching nervously as the king paced back and forth.

            "Kill him!" Glomgold said, for maybe the fifth time. "Cut him down! And to prove it, bring me his heart!"

            Launchpad grimaced. "Eeeh, isn't that a little gruesome?"

            "Are ya an assassin or not?!"

            "Um, well technically, I'm a huntsman, and goin' after princes of a kingdom doesn't really fall under my jurisdiction..."

            Glomgold pointed a threatening finger. "If you value your life as much as I do my money, then you’ll be sure not to foul this up!”

            Launchpad gulped.

 

            “Tales of derring do, bad and good luck tales, wooo-ooo,” Scrooge sang to himself as he frolicked around the flower fields, a bluebird chirping along on his shoulder. “D-d-d-danger lurks behind you…”

            Suddenly a shadow was cast over him and he spun around. A huge malevolent form stood above him, a baseball bat gripped tight in its hands.

            “Ahhhh!” Scrooge screamed.

            “Ahhhh!” Launchpad screamed. He stopped in his tracks and dropped the bat, tears streaming down his face. "Oh I can't do it!! Waahhh! Please, forgive me Your Highness!"

            Scrooge blinked and watched the huntsman fall to his knees, sobbing. "Uh… it'll be alright, laddie."

            "No, no, no!" Launchpad bawled. "The king! H-he's after you!" he gasped. "And now he'll be after _me_!"

            "The king?!” Scrooge gasped. It couldn’t be! Could it…?

            Scrooge grabbed Launchpad’s hand. "Come on, let's get out of here before he comes after us, man!"

            Launchpad hesitated. "B-but where are we goin'?"

            "Anywhere, anywhere but here!"

            So the two ducks ran screaming through the forest, completely losing their way and leaving all the woodland creatures disturbed and confused.

Finally the duo reached a clearing in the woods where a shoddy looking cottage stood. Exhausted from their flight, they knocked on the door.

            "Huh, doesn't look like anybody's home," Launchpad said, pushing the door open.

            "Goodness gracious, just look at the state of things!" Scrooge grunted. It was sickening. The place must not have been cleaned for years judging by the layers of dust, and a cold draft was blowing through the cracks in the walls.

            "Well, since we got the place to ourselves..." Launchpad crossed the musty kitchen and grabbed a piece of moldy bread on the counter.

            "Hold on there!" Scrooge said, looking around. “I can’t stand idly by and let such a nasty place offend my senses.“

            He walked over to the stone hearth and started up a fire to warm the house up a bit.

            “Launchpad, you wash those dishes in the sink,” he ordered from over the crackling of the fire.

            Launchpad looked at the mountain of dirty plates and glasses despondently. “Really? Can’t believe I gave up my nice cushy job for janitorial work.”

            Scrooge dumped some broth and vegetables into a pot and latched it over the fire, and then he picked up a broom. “Ah, it ain’t all that bad, lad! A little hard work does the body good!”

 

            Sometime later, the two looked at their handiwork and smiled proudly. It hardly looked like the same place!

            “Let’s take a look upstairs, what do you say?” Scrooge said.

            Scrooge led the way upstairs and found a bedroom with seven little beds, each with a name engraved on them. BigTime…Bankjob…Burger.

            "Why, what curious names," Scrooge mused, looking at the disheveled covers.

            "I guess they’re the type to put names on their undergarments, too." Launchpad said, leaning down on one of the beds and yawning widely. “I dunno about you, princey, but I’m beat!”

            Scrooge couldn’t have agreed more, and within a few minutes the two ducks were fast asleep.

 

            Meanwhile, out in the woods the seven owners of the cottage were returning from a successful night. They'd burgled another village, and come back with a decent score. The Beagle Boys were chatting quite cheerfully until they reached the clearing.

            "Hey, hold up a minute!" Bankjob said, barring the others back with his arm, causing them to crash one-by-one. "Why's the lights on in the house?!"

            All the Beagle Boys gasped. It was true- the door was wide open, and the chimney was smoking.

            “It must be the law!” cried out Bouncer.

            “Oh no! They found us! It was only a matter of time!” Babyface whimpered.

            “Psh! Well if it’s a fight they want, then it’s a fight they’ll get!” BigTime growled, clenching his fists.

            “He’s right! We’ll knock ‘em senseless! We’re _Beagles_!” Bankjob agreed. “Those coppers messed with da wrong group!”

            With newfound confidence, the Beagles stormed up to their cottage, ready to take on whatever.

            Except for this. They stopped in their tracks.

            “Somebody’s gone and cleaned the whole place up!” gasped Bouncer. “It’s been all dusted and polished!”

            “Just more proof that they was probably lookin’ for something!” BigTime said darkly, looking around.

            “Hey, get a load of the floor! I can see myself in it!” Babyface remarked.

            “Tryin’ to make us slip and fall! A weak assassination attempt!” grunted BigTime.

            “Look, the dishes are clean!” Bugle observed, looking in the cabinets. “Put away, too!”

            “The rats are clearly tryin’ to discombobulate us!”

            “Say, what’s bubblin’ on the stove? Smells good!” Burger said, waddling over to the fire and taking a big whiff.

            BigTime shoved him. “Haven’t ya been listenin’?! Pot’s probably filled with some lethal killer poison that’ll leave us all dead!”

            Bouncer took a big whiff and his face suddenly twisted, nose twitching. "Pepper! Ah-Ah-"

            "No, no!" all his brothers hissed. Not now!

            Bouncer expelled a soft sigh. "Thanks, guy- ACHOOOOO!!!"

            All the Beagles jumped a foot in the air, scrambling to hide under or behind whatever they could as their hearts exploded in their chests.

            "You idiot!" BigTime hissed quietly from under the table. "You tryin' to get us all killed?!"

            But after a few moments of hiding in silence, the Beagles realized that nobody was coming after them.

            "Well, if whoever was here is still here, they gotta be upstairs," Bankjob said, getting back on his feet.

            He turned to Baggy, who was shivering on all fours next to him. "Thanks for volunteering."

            “Huh?!”

            Bankjob handed his brother a flickering lantern and pulled him to his feet as the others all emerged from their hiding spots.

            “We’ll be right behind you!” Bankjob assured Baggy as the group gathered behind the stairs, forcing him to begin his fearful ascent. Somewhat comforted by the words, the lanky Beagle squeaked up the stairs with his heart pounding, until he reached the landing and looked back.

            They were still at the bottom of the stairs.

            “We’re right behind you!” Bankjob repeated, whispering loudly.

            Taking a deep breath, Baggy mustered all his courage and opened the bedroom door. And he let out a girlish shriek.

            "Come on!" BigTime yelled, pushing past the others, and they all charged up the stairs, ready for some clobberin’ time!

            But when they entered the bedroom they stopped short.

            "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Bankjob chuckled, his eyes glinting as the Beagles looked down upon the two sleeping ducks.

            "Look at the way these dudes are dressed," Bugle said, "Man, they gotta be rolling in dough!"

            "And they sure chose the right place to stay!" Burger grinned nastily, his fingers twitching with desire.

            "Let's pick their pockets!" Babyface said excitedly.

            "Yeah, They deserve it, after cleanin' the place!" Baggy agreed.

            At that moment, Scrooge opened his mouth in a huge, gaping yawn, and slowly opened his eyes. As his vision cleared, he let out a startled gasp and shook Launchpad awake.

            "Rise and shine sleeping beauty," BigTime said.

            “D’eh, I thought we was doing Rapunzel?” Baggy grunted.

            But Scrooge didn't seem frightened at all. "Ah, well hello there lads," he said. "Aha! You must be the owners of this not-so-fine establishment. Let me guess...." He pointed to Bankjob. "You're BigTime! And you..." He pointed to Burger, "You're Bouncer!"

            "Not even close," Burger said.

            "An' who the heck are you?" BigTime demanded. "You think you can just break into somebody's house? Touch an’ take their stuff? What kind of sicko does somethin’ like that?!"

            "W-wait, a moment please! Let me explain! I-I'm Scrooge White and-" Scrooge tried.

            "Wait, Scrooge White? As in the prince?!" the Beagles all gasped, shocked.

            "What are you doin' here?" asked Babyface.

            "Yeah, don'tcha have your ivory tower and golden toilet back home waitin' for ya?!" Bouncer said.

            "Who cares who he is, I say we throw him and his friend out for all they're worth!" BigTime crossed his arms.

            Scrooge's heart jumped and he found himself on his knees, pleading before them. "No, please don't throw us out! He wants to kill me."

            “ _Him?”_ Burger pointed at Launchpad.

            “ _Me?!”_ gasped Launchpad, looking at Scrooge incredulously.

            “No, no, the King! King Glomgold!” Scrooge yelled.

            Bankjob arched an eyebrow. "What'd you do to tick him off?"

            "Well…exist, I suppose," said Scrooge sadly.

            The Beagles looked at one another. Now that was sad.

            “And if you let us stay,” Scrooge continued, putting on a hopeful smile, “we'll keep this place spic and span, and cook you three hot meals a day-!”

            Launchpad turned again. “We will?”

            “Can you make cheeseburgers?” asked Burger.

            “And tenderloin steak?” asked Bouncer.

            “And fudge brownies?” asked Babyface.

            “And Macaroni an’ Cheese, but only if the ‘ronnis are shaped like Mickey Mouse, it tastes better that way.”

            Scrooge’s eye twitched. “Uh…I mean, I suppose I could.”

Apart from BigTime, all the Beagles jumped and cheered. “He stays!”

            Just then the smell of Scrooge’s soup wafted through the air, and all the Beagles began sniffing hungrily.

            “Ah, well that’ll be supper right now!” Scrooge said with a grin, hopping out of bed and hurrying downstairs. Launchpad and the Beagles trailed behind him hungrily, and bustled around him with their mouths watering as he took the pot off the fire.

            “Ah- hold on a minute, lads!” Scrooge said as he plopped the pot on the table, “I’ve yet to set the table! So you’ve got just enough time to go get washed up.”

            "Washed up?" the Beagles echoed. They looked amongst each other with disgust. Was this some kind of sick joke?

            “Aye,” Scrooge turned and put his hands on his hips. “Not a one of you is gettin' a sip of this soup 'til you're clean! When was the last time you cleaned yourself?" He walked up to Baggy and took a look at his hands.

            "Uh, three weeks short of never," Baggy mumbled, hiding his filthy palms behind his back.

            "Ah _mean it,"_ said Scrooge. "I won't be havin' no dirty paws at the table! You'll all march straight outside to wash up or there'll not be a bite to eat!"

            The brothers all sighed and swore under their breath as they headed outside to the water-filled trough, apart from BigTime, who just sulked on the side.

            Bankjob gulped. "Come on, brothers, be brave. It's...only a little water. And soap."

            Bugle dipped his finger into the trough and shuddered. "It's ice cold, man."

            "D-do we really have to do this?" Babyface whined.

            Baggy grabbed a bar of soap and yelled as it slipped out of his fingers and splashed into the trough, splashing him and he pulls back with a gasp. “This thing sure is _slippery_!”

            “I’ll get it!” Burger clumsily dove in after the soap, sending it flying, and making a tremendous splash that left everyone soaking.

            “You _idiot!”_ Bouncer roared, shoving him.

            “And I- and I- uh-oh-“ Baggy let out a gulping noise and then hiccupped loudly, a bubble of suds popping out of his mouth. The soap must have landed right back into his big mouth.

            “Ahahaahhaha!” BigTime cackled. “Oh, you guys look _so stupid!_ ”

            His brothers looked up and glared as he continued to laugh himself into a fit. “Oooh boy, you guys are sad! Next you pushovers will be wearin’ cologney and sippin’ tea! ‘Least I’ve still got a grain of self-respect!”

            Bankjob’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah?”

            Before BigTime could blink, his brothers had sprung and grabbed him, and were hauling off towards the wooden trough.

            “No! NO!” screamed BigTime.

            They dunked him in with a huge splash, and then dashed off back towards the house, hooting with laughter.

            BigTime fumed as he watched them flee, bubbles flowing out from his nose. "You jerks'll pay for this!"

 

            Meanwhile, miles away, Glomgold was pacing the castle halls impatiently. He was getting _quite_ tired of waiting for Launchpad's report! How long did it take to kill one troublemaking prince?

            Well, maybe the mirror could give him a status update.

            When he reached his chambers, he walked up to the mirror, tapping his foot.

            “Mirror, mirror, on the-Oh, you know the drill! Am I top duck yet?”

            Magica grunted. “Nah.”

            Glomgold was surprised. “What? Whaddaya mean, ‘nah’?”

            “Though he may not be so regal, I sense his presence from the dwelling of Beagles,” Magica said, closing her eyes in deep thought.

            “And what the heck is that supposed to mean?” Glomgold was losing his temper now.

            Magica rolled her eyes. “It means, Scrooge still lives, stupidnik!”

            “Launchpad has failed me!” Glomgold gasped, full fury setting in. “Very well then…looks like I’ll have to do this myself! ….But how?”

            “Well, perhaps I could help, with a transfiguration potion,” Magica mused. “If, say…you were to get me that number-one dime.” She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

            “Are you _blackmailing me?_ ” Glomgold snapped.

            “Yes. I thought was obvious.”

            Glomgold thought for a few moments. He didn’t have much choice. "Alright, fine, I'll get you your stupid lucky nickel."

            Magica laughed and waved her hands. The mirror went a hazy green and with a crack of thunder, a brew appeared in her hands. Magically, she passed it to Glomgold through the glass. “Drink up.”

            Uncertainly, downed the concoction. Immediately he let out a cry. His body was starting to change-!

            "I-I...I...I'm a woman!" Glomgold gasped in a higher pitched voice as he stood back up and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His body was full and round, with grey hair and reading glasses. He looked like a sweet little old nanny.

            A bright, shining gold coin swirled into his palm.

            “There’s your poison,” Magica told him. “Get him to bite into this gold coin and he’ll be cursed forever with the sleeping death!”

           

 

***

 

            Back at the cottage, the Beagles were hooting and hollering it up as they celebrated in the spoils of their latest “workday”. The bag of loot and all its contents littered the table, and the brothers were ready to enjoy themselves! Launchpad got up and joined them in their dancing, and in spite of himself, Scrooge found himself clapping his hands in rhythm.

            Launchpad and Baggy started boogieing around the table, just narrowly dodging Burger as he double-dipped in the leftovers.

            “And then he says, ‘Cover me, I’m goin’ in!’” Bouncer said, erupting into raucous laughter.

            Babyface went a bright shade of red. “That’s terrible!”

            “Aw, don’t be such a- a- achhoooOOOO!” Bouncer’s words exploded in a sneeze.

            “Wanna go for an arm wrestle, Buge?” Bankjob, who’d been chilling against the wall, turned to look at his brother. But Bugle was snoozing and snoring loudly, a big smile stretched on his face.

            BigTime, however, just stood in the corner, watching everyone enjoy themselves with a scowl on his face.

            “Ach, if only I had me bagpipes, this would be a _real party!”_ Scrooge said.

            The Beagles, all tired out from dancing the night away, plopped to the floor panting.

            “Ah, well, do _something!”_ Burger prompted.

            “Yeah, yeah!” Launchpad agreed, sitting down on the floor.

            Scrooge smiled. "Ah, well...I s'pose I could tell you a story."

            His thoughts turned to the beautiful princess. "Once...there was a lonely little prince. And he fell in love."

            "Oh, yuck!" complained Babyface.

            "This story’s stupid!" said Burger.

            "Oooh, ooh, lemme guess, _you're_ the prince?" Launchpad asked eagerly.

            "Will ye all shut up an' let me talk?!" Scrooge barked. "Anyways...the Princess that caught his eye was the loveliest thing he'd ever seen.”

            Baggy raised an eyebrow. "Uh, how big were her-"

            "AND THEN when their eyes met, their fell in a love so pure! Ach..." his eyes glazed over as he smiled. "Yes, we're going to live happily ever after."

He was silent for a few moments and the Beagles all looked at one another. What kind of dumb ending was that?

            Suddenly, the clock chimed.

            “Oh, would you look at the time! You all ought to get to bed!” said Scrooge.

            The Beagles and Launchpad all collectively groaned. “What???!”

            “No excuses!” Scrooge tutted. “Now come on lads, it’s late. Time for bed.”

            “We ain’t even tired-!“ complained Bankjob, but a big wide yawn betrayed him and spread to all his other brothers. Within a few moments, the Beagles had quieted down and pretty much passed out on the floor, worn out from their revelry. Launchpad too was curled up on the floor, fast asleep.

            “Aw, bless them,” Scrooge said fondly, making his way upstairs. “Especially BigTime. He has some serious issues.”

            BigTime, awake and listening in on all of this, just snorted and tossed a blanket over himself as he grit his teeth. What did this old fuddy-duddy know, he didn’t need to take advice from a talking duck!

 

            The next morning the Beagles woke early to head out for another day of looting- er, honest working.

            Scrooge fixed them up some buttered toast that they wolfed down happily, and then they lined up at the door.

            “Well, it’s that time again boys! Haul out!” Bankjob cried.

            “Oh, hold on now, boys!” Scrooge said, rushing up to the doorway. Out of his pocket he pulled out several shiny coins, and dropped one into each of their hands.

            "Wowee! Thanks a lot!" Babyface shouted joyously.

            "Hey, you ain't such a stuffed shirt as I thought," Bouncer said, smiling.

            Then it was BigTime's turn. His eyes narrowed at Scrooge as he walked up to him. "Now don't you be invitin' any hoodlums into this house, y'hear?!" BigTime said, shaking a finger.

            "Aw, well aren't ye sweet," Scrooge said, taking a coin and handing it to BigTime. The short Beagle blinked.

            "Are you kiddin' me? The heck am I s'posed to do with a penny? Come on, pile it on Gramps."

            But Scrooge just cleared his throat, patted him on the back, and pushed him on.

            Grumbling, BigTime stalked away. "You bum!"

            “I love you too!”

 

            With the Beagles gone, Scrooge and Launchpad had the house to themselves, and Scrooge knew exactly what he wanted to do with his personal time.

            “Come on, Launchpad! Let’s clean!”

            “Again?!”

            “Why, I’mma so happy I think I’m gonna sing!” Scrooge tittered, waltzing around the room. Through the windows, songbirds, squirrels, and rabbits ran to his side to dance.

            “What can I do?” Launchpad asked, wanting to be of help.

            “I’m gonna make a gooseberry pie for BigTime,” Scrooge said, slinging a bag of flour onto the counter. “For some odd reason, I get the feeling he doesn’t like me.”

            “Well that’s just silly.”

            “So will ya go collect some fresh gooseberries, lad?”

            “Sure thing!” Launchpad said, and with that he marched out into the forest to seek them out.

            Scrooge hummed to himself as he got the bowl and other ingredients all set. This was going to be such a nice surprise for everyone! And who didn’t like gooseberry-

            “Why hello there, dearie.” A voice called.

            Scrooge looked up in surprise to see a matronly woman outside his window holding a basket full of coins. “My name is Bettina Beakley, connoisseur of rare and foreign coins the world over!”

            Scrooge took a look into her basket and frowned. “Oh posh! I have ten times as many coins back home.”

            “But these are rare, _foreign_ coins,” the woman repeated, a bit of an edge to her voice. “And…they’re all perfectly legit! Believe me? I bet you don’t believe me.”

Scrooge was starting to get freaked out. “You're an odd lassie, aren't ye?"

 

***

            When Launchpad saw the suspicious looking character approaching the cottage, he knew right away that something was up. Somebody so frail and sweet looking’ just had to be pure evil! He had to get help!

            The Beagles were on their way to a neighboring town when Launchpad came sprinting, out of breath, from the underbrush.

            “Well, if it ain’t LunchBag,” sneered BigTime as he wobbled over to them.

            “What are you doin’ out here?” Bankjob asked. “I didn’t think Scrooge was dumb enough to let you off your leash.”

            “Scrooge! Uff…Killer! PUFF… _Granny_!” Launchpad managed to scream out through his hysterics.

            The Beagles all exchanged looks. Oh no! If anything happened to Scrooge, who would cook and clean for them? And more importantly, who would give them an allowance?

            “Let’s get movin’!” BigTime shouted.

 

***

            Underneath his disguise, Glomgold was getting frustrated.

            "Well dearie, see for yourself!" He handed the biggest, shiniest gold coin over to Scrooge, with an expectant look.

            "Whatever!" Scrooge grumbled, and he chomped down hard on the coin to test its authenticity. “But what are you-“

            Suddenly his body seized up and he fell to the floor, struggling to breathe. His eyes closed. Then he was still.

            “Ahahaha! Hahahahaha! Now _I’m_ the world’s richest duck!” Glomgold cackled as his disguise melted away.

            “It’s that nasty old Glomgold!” the Beagle’s voices shouted as they rushed in. With a gasp, Glomgold rushed into the woods.

            Launchpad and the Beagles gave chase, eager for their chance to exact revenge on the tyrannical ruler.

            “What do I do?!” He reached into his clothes and pulled out his convenient pocket mirror. “Help me, I need somewhere to hide-yaaaaahhh!!!” Glomgold tripped over a root and he and the mirror went flying. And with a bright flash of light, Glomgold was sucked into the mirror!

            “No! No!” Glomgold screamed, banging on the glassy barrier as he looked out on the outside world. He ripped tufts of his beard out in rage.

            Magica then materialized and tapped her foot impatiently. “Vell, did you get the dime?”

            “Shut up about your freaking dime!”

***

 

            Back out in the forest, Launchpad and the Beagles looked over Scrooge’s body mournfully.

            And so they lay him to rest in a glass coffin (but not before taking his nice cufflinks first, not like he would need ‘em anymore).

            And when Princess Goldie heard tale of the sleeping prince, she journeyed through the forest to come and see for herself.

            “Why do you keep him in there?” Goldie asked, getting off her trusty grizzly bear and walking over.

            “Well, we figured in case anybody out there wanted ‘im,” Bankjob explained. “We oughta keep ‘im fresh. Ya know, so they can scopes out the merchandise.”

            “He’s so beautiful!” sobbed Launchpad as he knelt at the edge of the coffin.

            Goldie grimaced. “But isn’t he dead?”

            BigTime shrugged. “Ain’t our job to judge, sister.”

            Goldie came closer for a better look and her eyes widened.

            “Why, that’s the fellow I’ve been searching for all this time! Oh, cruel fate! Please, let me see him up close.”

            Reluctantly, the Beagles opened the lid and she leaned in. Then she closed her eyes and kissed him.

            "Hey hey watch it, that's twenty bucks for getting cozy with the goods!" shouted BigTime.

            But then Scrooge’s eyelids suddenly fluttered open. Launchpad and the Beagles gasped.

            “You're back!” screams Launchpad, and he shoved Goldie aside so he could strangle Scrooge in a big hug. “Oh you have no idea how much I missed you! What's it like on the other side? Did ya see a big tunnel of light? Did you hear my yelling your name, ‘cuz I was, I was yellin’ your name…!”

            “Goldie?” Scrooge pushed past Launchpad and held out his hand to his beloved princess. She smiled, and the two squeezed their hands together.

            “Oh, I’ve been looking for you so long!” Princess Goldie said.

            “Let us get married, my dear!” Scrooge replied, hugging her tight.

            And everyone, even the Beagles, cheered.

            “I owe you all my thanks,” Scrooge said to the Beagles as he helped Goldie up onto her bear.

            “Does this mean we can live with you at the palace?” BigTime asked excitedly.

            “Nope!”

            They all groaned.

            “ _You cheapskate_!”

 

            So, Scrooge and Goldie galloped off into the sunset, with Launchpad in tow, doing his very best to keep up.

            Ands you can guess, they all lived happily ever after. Except for the Beagle Boys, who were caught and arrested a few days later and forced to spend the rest of their lives in prison.

 

The End.

 

 

 


End file.
